


Magik, The Sorceress Supreme

by Sceritz



Category: Magik (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16566338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sceritz/pseuds/Sceritz
Summary: Inspired by the Marvel "What If, Magik #1 (2018)"Magic is gone, and only Illyana Rasputin is left to defend the world against it's demonic foes as the Sorceress Supreme. But can she do this while dealing with demons of her own? Follow her as she combats the forces of darkness both on the outside and within.





	Magik, The Sorceress Supreme

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [What If? Magik (2018) #1](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/431360) by Leah Williams. 



The warm rays baked into Illyana Rasputin’s pale skin as she languished on the reclining day bed. Sunglasses protected her eyes, but only a two-piece did as much for her body. She was long overdue for some very much required relaxation. That’s why she was far less than amused when she sensed the presence of the middle-aged man with graying hair at his temples.

“You do realize how creepy it is to sneak up on a girl whose half your age while she’s sunbathing, right?” Illyana asked.

“I’m not one to skulk.” Doctor Strange responded. And as he looked up half or so dozen miniature suns floating in the air, in the otherwise dark room, he sighed. “And I don’t think the intended purpose of the Suns of Solaran is merely… ‘suntanning.’”

“I’m starting to think that your intended purpose is pretty much just grating my nerves.”

Shutting his eyes for a moment, Strange clasped his hands before his face like he was praying and took a slow deep breath in and out through his nose before opening them again. “Illyana, not to sound like an overbearing parent, but I think there are far more constructive things you could be doing right now.”

“I’m reading” she said. Strange started slightly at the flutter of a book page turning to his right. It was floating there in the air, and hovering just above it, lenses gazing down at the ancient arcane texts, was the fully opened Eye of Agamotto.

“I see…” he said, rubbing his chin. There was a slight frustration there, as he gazed at it in mild surprise for a moment. The eye was as it has always been- smoothed, polished and some color that wasn’t quite gold or quite bronze. “I used to love reading.”

“We are in a library, you know.”

“It’s the understanding I lack. The pages of the Vishanti, and many magical texts require an arcane familiarity that, as you know, I no longer possess.” He somehow managed not to sound like a whimpering puppy as he said the words.

The Eye of Agamotto angled up to peer at him. Illyana was only now noticing how truly plain the man looked as of late. Thin, still muscular, but thin from the passing of many years, or perhaps the stress that came with them. Without his cape and robes, or any other magical affects, he looked like a simple man. The word “muggle” came to mind and a grin pulled at the edges of her lips. She took care not to let him see.

Doctor Strange was just that- a doctor, and nothing more. No master of the mystic arts. No Sorcerer Supreme. In fact, the latter title was precisely why he was here to scold her, she was sure. “Well, try not to cry about it.”

“Illyana, the title of Sorceress Supreme is not one to be taken lightly. When I gave you the banner, my magical relics, my home, it wasn’t a solely a gesture of kindness. I want to be sure that you are able to fulfill the duties of the role.”

“I am.”

“As of late? I’m not so sure...”

I low guttural noise sounded, like bestial creaking and Doctor Strange put his hands up, in caution. “It’s okay, Lockheed.” Illyana said. “He’s just being an annoyingly concerned caretaker, like Batman’s guy from the comics.” Lockheed, Illyana’s purple miniature dragon, sat on the top of one of the tall book shelves, whipping his tail back and forth like a cat.

Strange tilted his head. “Did you just compare me to Alfred?”

“I’m the Sorceress Supreme and you’re the ‘no powers having guy’ that looks after me, right?”

“I’m not Alfred. Alfred is way older than me.”

“Fine, then. You’re my Wong.”

Wong was Strange’s old caretaker. He looked like he wanted to object, seemed to consider the futility of it, and then changed course. “Listen, I understand if you’re trying to slow down with your use of magic. I know the toll it can take, especially considering the source of your powers.”

“Limbo has been a part of me, for damn near my entire life. I’ll manage.”

“If the Darkchilde returns-“

“I said, I’ll manage.” Her words cut like a dagger, but on the inside she felt her stomach knot at the thought of the Darkchilde. When she was a little girl a demon named Belasco from the realm of Limbo had trapped her there and tried to corrupt her soul. He’d succeeded too, birthing the Darkchilde. But at the end of it all, it was she that control of her own power, and chose to do what she would with it. The Darkchilde was the malevolent antithesis of Illyana Rasputin. She’d lived with it her for her entire life. But she didn’t need Doctor Strange, who’d never had his soul torn from him piece by piece, trying to tell her about herself.

Doctor Strange bowed in resignation. “Words for the wise. You have my trust. Have you made any progress on figuring out what happened to magic?”

“I’ve been fighting demons for the past several months, but none of them have been of the ‘steal all the world’s magic’ variety. But there’s a connection. They didn’t start showing up until after the disappearance. It could have something to do with the very fabric of magical barrier between the magical and corporeal realms being compromised. I can see it with the Eye of Agamotto, and it’s not going better… but I think there’s more to it than that.”

“I think you may be onto something. I’ve had a similar hypothesis. The magical realm has always overlayed the physical, and sometimes, some of the more mischievous creatures would find their way into the physical world and with the barriers weakened, one would think more of them would come over however…”

“Almost all of them seem to be demons.” She finished for him.

Strange paced the room, the thumb and index finger of his right hand stroking his beard in thought. “We have to fix this. It’s been months, and without magic…”

“I am Magik, Doctor.” Illyana said. She’d removed her shades and was sitting up. She now looked at him with her own eyes instead of that of Agamotto. Lockheed had crawled down from the bookshelf and had sidled up to her lap where he nuzzled his head. “And I’ve been single-handedly keeping the world’s magical problems in check. Ever stop to think that it might be better without as much of it around?”  
He snapped his head towards her, an sudden shadow cast over his eyes. “Without… magic?” He took a step closer to her. “Do you know the time, and years I put into becoming a master of the mystical arts?”

Magik cut her eyes at him as she stroked Lockheed’s head. “I can relate.”

“Then you understand why we must have it back.” He slammed his fist into his palm to emphasize the last word.

Magik stared at Strange for a moment, and then narrowed her eyes. “You know Doctor, this is starting to sound like a personal thing.”

“No” he said as he massaged the fingers of his right hand. “No, there is a problem, and we fix it. That’s what we do.”

Magik stood to her feet. Lockheed, had snaked around her to perch on her shoulder. “No, that’s what the Sorceress Supreme does. And that’s what you made me. And that’s what I will do, if I see it as a problem.” She waved her hand. One of the suns shifted, and a tight beam of light shot from it into the Eye of Agamotto.

Doctor Strange furrowed his brows. “If?”

“My job, my call. You didn’t ask me to fix magic. You asked me to be the Sorceress Supreme and that’s what I’m doing, Magik’s way. Not Strange’s.”

Doctor Strange stared at her for a long time before exhaling and lowering his head. He looked at his hands. He found them hard to steady. “You’re right. You’re the Sorceress Supreme, and I’m… I guess I’m Alfred.”

“Damn right you are.” She said with a smile. Suddenly, the eye turned red. The a moment later a light flare floated up from it and dashed towards Magik. She swiped it out of the air.

“Using the Suns of Solaris to shine through the Eye of Agamotto to locate magical anomalies… clever.”

“Like I said,” she started as an eldritch light traversed her body from top to bottom. Her usual costume, black pants and tank top with and eldritch symbol on it, formed over her body. “Magik’s way.”

“Remember yourself, Illyana,” he said even as he nodded his head towards hers. She didn’t have to even ask, and she knew he was referencing the two small horns that’d started growing from her forehead not long ago.

“I can handle it.” She said with a small smirk. Even as she did, she felt the knot of fear in the pit of her stomach tightening. But could she? She dealt with the Darkchilde before, but that was years ago. The more she frequently she used her magic, the more she felt its presence. She knew who she was now. She hoped that when the time came, she knew would remember who she was then, too.

The air stirred as a familiar ally swept by. There, the Cloak of Levitation hung in the air, as if on some invisible hanger. The ends of the cape made a motion at her like waving. “We’ve had this discussion before,” Magik said. “I’m a teleporter and you would make me a flyer. Why would I want to fly when teleporting is so much faster?”

The cloak seemed to slump in disappointment. “You should take the Cloak.” Strange said. “Flying can have more uses than you might think.”

Magik stared at the Cloak for a moment before snatching the Eye of Agamotto from where it floated in the air, hanging it around her neck. “Maybe next time.” And like that, a vibrant disc of light formed at her feet. “Same lesser demon problem. I shouldn’t be long.” The light washed over her body, and she was gone.

 

The demon looked like a bear. Not like the Demon Bear she destroyed so many years ago, but rather a hairless red skinned beast capable of mauling a yeti if it was challenged to do so. It hadn’t killed anyone yet, but the way it was staring at the small family of four across the street as it bent its hind legs told Magik that it wouldn’t be long before that changed. It lunged.

One stepping disk later Magik was there, wide thick broad sword glistening against the charcoal of the street’s night backdrop. Her Soulsword. It was a symbol of her power, and a warning against dark magic creatures like this one. It was how she harnessed her soul before Belasco could take it.

She was holding a defensive stance, but before the beast even reached them, a gleaming silver plate materialized, and I the beast slammed into it with a monstrous howl of pain. Her Soularmor. Once upon a time she couldn’t control its manifestation, and it only formed around her body. Now she could very much control and project it.

As the demon staggered and shook off the pain, she turned to the family behind her. “You’re free to watch, but I’m not doing the ‘guarantee you won’t get mauled by the demonmanbearthing’ thing because you were stupid enough to not get the hell out of here.”

The teenage girl of the family sheepishly put her cell phone away as her mother and father dragged her and her younger brother away from the fight. Magik rolled her eyes. “Baby Boomers.”

Lockheed who still sat on her shoulder, let out a puff of smoke from his nostrils in agreement. The demon that looked like a bear but was not the Demon Bear, was back to its feet and stalking Magik with its eyes. “You don’t want this fight, demonmanbearthing.” She took a step or two forward, and it took a step back. “But while you’re here, I’ve got questions. I’ve been fighting your ilk for a months now, studying you, and I still can’t get a lead on why so many of you are here… or why you keep coming. Is it that you see the open door and can’t help but walk through it… or is it something else?”

The demon grumbled, almost coherent enough to be words, but not quite.

“What was that?”

“I said, we’ve been testing your magic.” The demon’s voice was like the vibrations of an avalanche.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” She asked as she spun her sword absently in her hand.

“You grow in power… while all others have dwindled.”

“That’s why I’m the Sorceress Supreme. Now who sent you?”

It seemed to hesitate and then bore its teeth as if contemplating attack.

“Don’t do it. I slay about 3 dozen of you lessers a day, and most of them come at me all at once. Answer the question.”

“He is the true master, the god of us, bathed in the dark fires. He-“ the demon was cut off by the sound of howls like wolves that came from every direction at once. Magik took a defensive stance and the not-demon-bear himself tensed, looking all about. Lockheed screeched as if to herald the arrival of the pack that moved like the wind, blue glowing exoskeletons illuminated in the dark of the night.

There were three of them about the size of large dogs, and not too different in appearance either. Before Magik could react, they were all on the larger demon, attacking, slashing, biting, and with their numbers, she knew that the lesser didn’t even have a chance. Magik watched, even as she prepped for them to come for her next.

And then they did, not a moment of time wasted. A three-prong attack. One from each side, the other directly from the front. Her armor projected, blocking two off with a hard stop, her sword interrupting the path of the third, easily cutting in two. Dropping the Soularmor, she went after the others, their exoskeletons- undoubtedly a formidable defense in most situations- doing nothing to protect them from the strokes of her Soulsword.

It was over in a matter of seconds. But she didn’t let down her guard. These were Void Hunters. Hunters sent to track down an entity whose arcane scent they’d acquired. She’d only been away from the Sanctum- which she careful wrapped in a pocket of Limbo where it couldn’t be found- for less than 5 minutes before they found her. Which meant she’d been marked before. Someone else had who could still use very powerful magic was after her. “Let them come,” she muttered to no one.

Lockheed cawed and Magik turned to face the Void Hunters again. Where there were three, there were now six, standing up right and ready to pounce once again. And that’s when she realized it. They were Hydra bound. An ancient dark spell that granted those it was bound to the ability to split into two bodies from their dead corpses. Only a very experienced master of the dark arts could have performed the spellbinding.

They moved, and so did she. Lockheed flew from his perch on her shoulder and engaged one of them with a plume of fire. She batted two of them away one after another with the sword, like a bat. She tried to keep from actually killing any of them for fear of the fact that they’d just split into two more.

“Damn it all to Limbo, I need a distraction.” As she back pedaled away from the still approaching hunters, her eyes illuminated a bright blue, and her disembodied voice sounded ubiquitously in some archaic langauge, summoning some ancient magic as she held her sword upright at the center of her face. She stabbed it into the ground severing the earth for several yards in front of the place where she struck before stopping. From the crease exploded a bright expanse of cerulean arcane energy, and three of the creatures were tossed in either direction, up and to the left and right of it. Not enough to kill them, but enough to slow them down for the few seconds she needed.

Leaving the sword impaled there in the middle of the street, she held one hand out. She circled her other in the space above it as if polishing some invisible sphere. As she did this, dark brimstone congregated there from all around, forming as if from the thin air, into a large spherical stone in her open palm.

The six hunters had formed up again, all preparing a coordinated strike. They stalked forward, saliva dripping from tongues that hung from hungry mouths, with eyes that glowed brighter than their translucent exoskeletons. And then together, they pounced.

A disc formed below Magik and she was gone. The hunters changed course, scampering into 180 degree turns where they sprinted towards where she now was in the opposite direction. But it was too late. She had the distance she needed. Her horns looked to be an inch or two longer, and her eyes glowed orange, rather than blue. The words she spoke were of an ancient tongue of a forgotten realm. It translated roughly to “Cinders of Surtur.”

She crushed to molten stone in her hands, into a blazing orange dust which spun, swirled, and congregated back above her hand, floating there for a moment like the debris of an exploded planet. And then she blew. The hot cinders washed over the void hunters like a shower of sparks, enveloping them, burning their exoskeletons and flesh into vapor that blew away in the night wind.

The smirk on her face was wide, and she had to subdue the urge to break out into a mad cackle. She caught herself and the Darkchilde flashed in her vision. She placed hand on her head and then shook it. No. The Darkchilde does not control me. That is not who I am, she thought to herself.

She strolled back towards her soul sword, which was still stuck in the earth, as Lockheed, came back down to rest on her shoulder. When she reached it, she didn’t take hold of it. A moment passed. “You can come out whenever you like. I already had to talk about another old man creeping up on me today.”

The man didn’t so much walk from around a corner, as he did out of an invisible fold of shadows. He was a man of medium height, dark skin and severe, sharply arched eyebrows. He sauntered with his hands clasped behind his back, demanding authority with his swagger. On his face was an expression that wasn’t quite a frown, or smile, and yet neutral wasn’t quite the word for it either. He was… convinced of himself.

“Illyana Rasputin, sister of the mighty colossus. No longer the little snowflake of the X-men are you?” He asked.

That patronizing statement alone was almost enough to get her to decapitate him where he stood. But she didn’t move. “You stole magic.”

“Stole? That would imply that I wasn’t already entitled to it. No, I simply claimed magic.” He began to circle her in a slow, non-threatening, yet altogether, unsettling stroll. “I've been watching you Rasputin...”

“Did I not mention how creepy that is?”

“With how well you’ve been protecting the realm, I had assumed that there was still a small band of sorcerers left on the planet, defending it against the threat of the darkness. It took me time to ascertain that there was only one, and that that one was you. Your natural affinity for teleportation has served you well, and your skills in the arcane well… I couldn’t be more impressed.”

“You’re scared.” Magik said.

“Don’t be so juvenile. I am Baron Mordo, the most powerful Sorcerer in this realm. I have no fears.”

“Mordo? The guy that was always jealous of Strange? Now I know you’re scared.”

“That’s ju-“

“I’ve been the Sorcereress Supreme for months now. And you’re just now coming after me?”

He glowered at her. “Enough of the small talk. I know what I am, and I will let my actions speak for me,” he said as he rose a hand in the air, his fingers curling like claws. He did the same with his other hand, which was stretched down at the bottom. Between them a large purple glyph formed, intricate symbols pulsing with magical energy, which quickly shifted to a burning mandarin.

Around them the city street began terraforming into something otherworldly. The streets fissured and split as the earth shifted beneath them, making way for a wash of bright orange and purple light to blaze between them. Hills formed where there were none, rupturing the very foundation of the buildings, toppling them in seconds. Spires stabbed up from the earth like large black daggers, splitting establishments in half. Molten rock poured from some of them. Large bodies of green, orange, and purple floated in the air like gargantuan, alien cells.

And Magik could do nothing but laugh… or was that the Darkchilde? She wasn’t sure at the moment “Oh, you’re more of an idiot than I thought. The Dark Dimension? You made a deal with Dormammu?”

Baron Mordo smirked something sinister. “My methods do no matter. I’m done playing games with you. The Void hunters were me playing nice. Now you will face your true challenge.”

And then she was surrounded. They burst up out of the blackened rock that the city had been replaced with, showered in soot and cinder. They were all different shapes and sizes, bodies as dark as the dimension they came from. But they all had one thing in common. Their faces -their eyeless, mouthless faces- all had the same red glow behind it. These were the Mindless Ones.

Magik hardly flinched when the giant reptilian-bodied one erupted from the ground just yards away. She’d already fallen into the mantra of battle. So, when she pulled her SoulSword from the broken earth, it’s death scarcely occurred to her.

A soul is a powerful thing, and in magic, patience, precision, and perseverance breeds unfathomable potential. Her Soulsword, forged from her soul with those elements in play, was the bane of all the arcane. She was trained by the light of Storm, the dark of Belasco, and the ferocity of Cat. She’d been a New Mutant and an X-man. She was the ruler of Limbo, and now the Sorcerer Supreme. No simple army of demons, no matter how large, would be enough to take her down.

“You fight like a true warrior bred by the darkness of your own soul. Only a pure heart that has been corrupted by demonology could have such power. I see now, how you’ve been able to protect this realm for so long.” Baron Mordo hovered high above the battle with his hands clasped calmly behind his back. “But how long can you keep this up? I can see the horns that sprout from your head, the hues of your human skin darkening. How long before you succumb completely to the Darkchilde, Illyana?”

She didn’t answer him. She had in her mind, another way of shutting him up. The number of slain must have been nearly to the triple digits before she decided that she was done with the horde and would go for its keeper. The stepping disc appeared, and she was gone reappearing just above him, sword reared back and ready to end this whole debacle.

She swung, and it was met by a staff, which had appeared in his hand. “Allow me to introduce to you the Felstaff of the Vorpal Lands.” He pushed her off, and she created another disk which she fell through, to appear to his rear. He guarded that attack also, but only barely. “Enough! I’ve prepared for your little gimmick.”

When she teleported again, he’d rose the staff upwards “Null of the Zil!” he shouted. When Magik reappeared, she found herself hit by a light shockwave that passed through her, pushing her just out of her swing range. When she attempted to create another stepping disc, she found that she could not. Her eyes widened as she fell. They had easily been 100 feet in the air. She knew now, that this would be the end.

And then it wasn’t.

She hit something that seemed to have whipped into her body, intercepting her fall. Suddenly she found herself enveloped in a soft embrace, and then… she was flying. She looked down to see that wrapped around her shoulders was the Cloak of Levitation. She could hear Doctor Strange’s “I told you so’s” and even as she smiled, half wished it would just let her die.

She floated up to Mordo’s altitude once again, several yards away. “You think you are worthy of the title of Sorcerer Supreme? You are a mewling little girl. The title was always meant for me!” Even as he spoke, he shifted his hands this way and that, summoning spell. A hail of what had to be near 100 arcane bolts fired towards her like meteorrites.

Magik pulled her Soulsword back within her body and was weaving her hands for her own spell. In front of her, a dark vortex opened up… a black hole like the many that existed in the deepest crevices of Limbo.

The bolts were sucked towards the vacuum, as was Mordo, who, try as he might, could not resist it’s pull. But even as he came towards it, he was casting yet another spell. “Hoarfrost of Hoggoth, he shouted, as a white congregate of energy shot towards the hole. It incased it like crystal. When he landed on it, feet first, he brought his staff down on it after, and it shattered like glass, exploding outward like a detonation.

The shards rained over Magik’s body, cutting and lacerating her skin. But she noticed that the ice, instead of simply cutting and impaling her, had begun to bind and spread over her skin, threatening to very quickly envelop her body. She cried in fury and called her SoulArmor to form beneath the growing Fel-ice. Once it had, she expanded it outward, shattering it.

That action had been the last feather to tip the scale. Magik breathed heavy as she stared back at Mordo. She knew what she was now. She could feel the heat of her skin, the power that burned in her body. She’d been changing the more she pushed herself in this fight, but she could feel the horns on her head that had grown to full length, her feet that had turned to hooves. The thickness of her now dark red skin. She had become the Darkchilde.

Mordo smiled. “And there she is… the true you. Magik, in her rawest form. A demon posing as the Sorcerer Supreme. It’s as what I knew would happen. You’ve lost yourself.”

Lockheed hovered nearby contemplating her. The Darkchilde seemed to consider Mordo’s words for a long moment. Illyana was inside, trapped, confused and unable free herself. She’d been here before, once with a soul, once without. She knew her tendencies. She knew the darkness that she was capable of…

…And she embraced all of it.

A terrifying smile spread over the Darkchilde’s lips. Her voice was errant, and like that of two begings. “No Mordo, I am exactly what I’ve been ever since the day Belasco corrupted my soul.” Without warning she fired an eldritch bolt that struck Mordo in the center of his chest. The dark sorcerer nearly lost control of himself, but somehow, he managed not fall.

He held his smoking chest in exacerbated pain, teeth gritted in anger. “You will die today, Darkchilde, and I will have my title!”

“You’ll have nothing, you pitiful degenerate. Tell me how you stole magic, and I’ll think about making your death quick.”  
“You want to know how I’ve gained my power? How I was able to undo every sorcerer in the world? How I’ll soon undo you? So be it.” He raised the staff. And like he appeared from the shadows on the street, so did above him appear a large dragon, black, skin alive with grey flame. “The Lich Dragon of the Vorpal Lands and ruler of the Dead Plains. You see it naturally consumes magic, and yet only I was able to bend it to my will.” He said, with a self-important smirk. “It only affects the realm it’s in. Lucky for you and I, our power comes from different sources- Limbo and the Dark Dimension. Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t need to consume your power kill you. It will simply consume you.”

The Darkchilde rolled her eyes. “Lockheed, handle my light weight.” And with that, she extended her hands towards the small, purple dragon and poured a dark electric-like energy over it. Lockheed shuttered at first, but then in a matter of moments, had begun to grow- its tail and neck elongated, his wingspan stretched to a width that looked as if it could envelop the world- and before long, Lockheed was a full-grown dragon, even larger than the Lich Dragon.

Lockheed let out a single puff of steam through his nostrils, and then pounced the Lich Dragon. The two beasts clashed like thunder.

“You think it’s that easy?” Mordo said as he held his hand forward. Arcane chains flew from them, and clamped around Darkchilde’s neck, arms and legs. “How do you think I was able to bind and control the Lich Dragon? How about any number of the demons I sent after you over the past few years? How do you think I have been able to obtain such power? Why do you think I wanted you Darkchilde, instead of Illyana?”

Darkchilde gasped for breath as she tugged at her bindings. Mordo continued, as he floated closer to her. “These are the Felchains of Dormammu, fashioned by dread himself. Any demon lesser than him succumbs to their will.” He was only feet from her now. “You never had a chance in this fight, darling. And you were never worthy to be the Sorcerer Supreme. All you are is a lesser demon.”

Darkchilde gasped as she choked out her words. “What makes… what makes you think… that I’m lesser than Dormammu?” she asked. Before he could answer, her Soulsword suddenly jutted from her chest, and into his, impaling like a giant shining spear. He gasped, eyes in wide astonishment.

The chains disintegrated. The sword pushed itself the rest of the way out of Darkchilde’s body. Then she gripped the handle and moved her face inches from his. “Assuming who, and what I am is the last mistake you’ll ever make. I am Magik. I am Darkchilde. I am Illyana Rasputin. And I am the Sorcereress Supreme. There is none greater than I.” She ripped the Soulsword from his body. The light left his eyes and he fell.  
At the same moment, Lockheed had made his final blow against the Lich Dragon, cracking its neck with his jaws, and it too, fell. Even as they did, the world began to shift back to where it had been before Mordo had summoned the Dark Dimension. Buildings were restored, and no foundations had been re-established. The only fissure in the road was the one that Illyana had created herself.

Mordo was dead, and the world was as it was before. She landed on the ground, and with a brief meditation, she was able to transform from demon form, to human once more. She understood at that moment, that she was always able to transform between the two, because she’d already long ago accepted the fact that she was both, all the time, regardless of her appearance. As she had stated, she was Magik, and Darkchilde. Lockheed, small again, landed on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes to see Doctor Strange standing there, as muggled as ever, hands in his pockets. He was looking at her with a small smile. “It seems I made the right choice for Sorceress Supreme. What do you think? The cloak suits you, by the way.”

Illyana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The Lich Dragon was the problem. I think after a while, you’ll have your precious magic back.”

“With time, sure. But that doesn’t change anything.” He said.

She narrowed her eyes. “It… doesn’t?”

He shrugged, as he massaged his fingers. “I’ll study, sure. Maybe even get back to my old self… but I was thinking… I kind of like being Alfred.”

She couldn’t help the grin. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Not even a little. You proved to me in more ways than a few, that you deserve to be Sorcereress Supreme. You’ve accomplished more than I’ve ever been able to, and… I’ve had my time. That job belongs to you, from now on.”

Illyana Rasputin grinned and Lockheed cawed in approval. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for everything.”

The End.


End file.
